


Dead Man Walking

by Bremmatron33



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Body Horror, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:15:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bremmatron33/pseuds/Bremmatron33
Summary: With Knock Out indisposed Breakdown takes the helm of sole medical officer on duty. With patients like these, he should have stayed in the mines.
Relationships: Breakdown/Knock Out (Transformers)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	Dead Man Walking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Slyboots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slyboots/gifts).



Breakdown had hoped it would have been a quiet night.

Optics flickered on and off as he dropped in and out of power-down. The hot clamps and cannula slipping from his blistering numb digits but never enough to drop into the cleaning solvent. Never messy enough to make a sound and alert others or lose the progress he’d made. Knock Out had taught him the technique, the only thing that kept him sane through pre-med, through the even longer restless nights on the turbulent battlefields, but Breakdown wasn’t sure it did as much good for him as it did his partner. At least it would keep his processor from frying completely through who knew how many double shifts he was going to have to pull. Even if it did nothing for the pounding behind his optics and the buzz in his audials.

Looking up to stretch a kinked cable in his neck Breakdown let his attention linger on the blurry reflection of the doctor curled up on a dingy stretcher. It was the only padded thing they had, only thing that wouldn’t warp Knock Out’s fine metal during a long time spent still. He tried to ignore the deep rusting gash along his partner’s neck, the smashed-in headlight, the crust of deep blue energon scabs stuck along the few other nasty gouges on his back and thighs. It killed him to not know the story, to not know what Autobot’s skull he needed to smash in. According to Soundwave he’d just gone down salvaging, he wished he knew what for, what they even needed. Just a handful more secrets to add to the pile that had been growing between them. Breakdown hated that too.

“Probably went down to play doctor with the Autobot scouts. You think the Prime caught them?” He wanted to throttle Airachnid for that little comment.

Thankfully Knock Out was not nearly as incompetent as his compatriots woefully bemoaned. Medical stasis wasn’t pretty or fast but for a trained medic who had no other helping servos around it was a lifesaver. For only Knock Out, unfortunately, considering it left their medical bay critically understaffed. Breakdown didn’t want to think of the ten vehicons he had to put down just in the last few hours. Self-doubt always told him that a better medic could have saved them- that Knock Out could have saved them- but he knew the mech better. Knock Out could save them but it still would have been him doing the saving. Unwise to waste supplies on the soon to be dead had always been the doctor’s mantra but were they all not soon to be dead. As medics, they were the last hope for compassion for the underdog and while without a doubt the sentiment sounded disgustingly Autobotesque it had been the only one of the few curatic oaths that Knock Out cared about on his good cycles and the only one that had stuck with Breakdown through his own training. His team needed him because there simply was no one else. It was a shame Knock Out saw compassion differently since his youthful cycles. At one point he at least used to humor him by helping. He was after all practically their god with how fast he could split a spark and mold a frame. His quick skills at body work the very thing that caught Shockwave' s optic. Forcing him into the mad scientist’s circle. Breakdown had never been fond of that either but they likely never would have met if he hadn't.

He wished Knock Out had at least called him before rushing into a stasis shutdown. He knew he’d been spending more time with his team in the mines, leaving the other mech to stroke Starscream’s ego and play the second’s games and more time than not suffer the consequences alone but...he still would have come running. That had been the whole point of him becoming trained in the first place.

Breakdown heaved a sigh as he hoisted up a new batch of gunked surgical tools. As anxiety-inducing and draining as the situation was... at least Knock Out was resting for once. More often than not they fueled each other’s bad habits when it came to the practice. Memories of first meeting him and the rest of the medical staff on the Revenant just tethered to the outlets of the ship for energy support, optics burnt black at the edges, and sparks coming from their wires still haunted Breakdown enough to make him sick when he thought too long about it. Like they were reliving some darker part of history. Like they were nothing more than tools just to be used once more. Knock Out never quite grew out of the practice or the even worse alternatives despite the pleading.

Not that he needed the war to form that nasty habit. Now and then the musing would creep into Breakdown’s idle thoughts when he’d catch his partner sitting at a desk, eighth cycle in, talons twitching and field electrical storm tight re-reading for the nth- hundred time some medical text that he’d likely memorized as they waited for some equipment to finish its cycle, some body to fall, some order to come through. Always live wire ready. Had the war done this to them? Broken them beyond what could ever be fixed, or had Velocitron simply done that job; long before they ever stepped ped in lines with Megatron. Knock Out’s tear strained croon always in the back of his mind. “We’re already failures, you and I. May as well just take our time now. Not race to our deaths.”

“Yeah. You first.” Even still they never did willingly, save for the rare reverent moments they shared when they were sure no one was watching them.

Breakdown knew for sure that it wasn’t going to be an easy cycle the moment lord Megatron came bursting through the medbay doors nearly wrenching them off their tracks.

“Where is he?” He screamed as soon as he failed to spot the mech he was looking for. With no hesitation or further questioning he swatted equipment out of his way.

Breakdown tried not to panic. Soundwave had been the one who’d informed him that Knock Out had come back in bad shape. The communications officer had been the one to give him leave in spite of Airacnid’s intentional malice. “Sick leave, Sir. Soundwave called me in. How can I be of help?”

Megaton took no time getting violent. Breakdown had no reason to be fearful enough to fight his lord so was surprised to have claws shearing into his metal as he was heafted up by his chest plates. “YOU MAY SAVE YOUR SPARK BY GIVING UP YOUR INSOLENT SUPERIOR BREAKDOWN!” Breakdown could only stare dumbfounded into Megatron’s venomous glare.

“S-sir I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sometimes Breakdown was lucky that he had a reputation for being dumb and artless, seeming that his lord believed him by his word alone. It was, Breakdown was sure, Megatron's own intuition by which he was saved but only by half.

He set Breakdown back to his peds and addressed his soldier sharp and calm. “Where is he then? Tell me if you have no reason to hide him!” Breakdown guided the mech’s attention to the corner where Knock Out was, where he’d been for hours.

“What’s the issue, Sir?” Megatron still did not answer. Temper quickly flaring as he neared Knock Out in stasis on the berth. It filled the room, static making the air hum around them. He stared at the smaller mech for a moment then without warning blind rage taking hold as he flipped the gurney.

Breakdown vented sharply unable to hold back his wince. One cycle they were going to break something the medic’s auto repair just couldn't fix. The strain of that would kill his poor conjunx faster than any Autobot. "Sir?", he all but pleaded. Panic peaking high enough now to make his metal rattle.

Finally satisfied for whatever reason Megatron turned to him. Infuriatingly calm now. "Are the good doctor’s vitals normal?" Breakdown let out a weak ex-vent. Forcing his shoulder cannon to shut down.

"Can't say I checked really. He was in stasis by the time I was able to return to post. Looked like nothing but mesh wounds. Spark pulse was enough for me." Megatron nodded, righting the gurney and resituating Knock Out on it.

"It would be advisable to run further testing. The Autobots may have used him as a carrier for something. Make sure a place is clear. I will be bringing in Commander Soundwave." Megatron wasted no more time as he briskly strode from the medbay. Leaving Breakdown time to calm himself.

At least everything made some semblance of sense now. Of course only an issue with Soundwave would incite their lord to such sudden action. The information did nothing to subdue his panic however, in fact, it only made it worse. Soundwave was likely the only mech their lord actively cared for besides the Prime. Loss of the Commander’s life would not be an option if he expected to keep his own. What could take down a mech as infallible as Soundwave, though?

Picking up a clean syringe, Breakdown returned to Knock Out’s bedside. If it was anything brought in it had to be organic. He knew from experience that Knock Out’s frame killed anything else. His sponsor had been the crazy sort, poisoning energon and polish with anything known in the galaxy that could kill a Cybertronian. Elite training at it’s finest. Made energon transfusions a bitch. Among other...more... personal things. Knock Out had been coherent when he’d reached base though. Panicked, sure, but if he had the wherewithal to return to base and lock himself in the medbay he would have left a note about the event if there was anything pertinent to note.

Regardless, whatever bought him time couldn’t hurt. Another one of his partner’s favorite motos and one that often served them well. Breakdown couldn’t count the number of close calls they’d gotten out of or hard work they saved themselves from by simply waiting an hour or two for a test to process. The tests themselves however? Well Knock Out never claimed to be a cunning pathologist. Ratchet likely had a leg up on him at that if the mech had the bearings to even create some technorganic plague. At least it would please Megatron.

* * *

Megatron carried Soundwave in slung carefully over his shoulder. A soldier’s carry. Almost heartless if the leader’s wild paranoia hadn’t just given him away. It was unsettling to see the everpresent entity that haunted every mech in the Decepticon army true and well passed out. Even more so to just have him limp on the table. This was really happening. It wasn’t some joke and it was stuck in Breakdown’s servos to figure it out.

“Sure you don’t want to go and tell the old slagger we’re sorry for everything and hope he’s as benevolent as he claims?” Breakdown hadn’t expected Megatron to laugh or even the strained smile he did manage to get from the warlord. It spoke volumes to both their situations, what both mechs would be without their betterhalves.

“ I think we’re well past penances you and I Breakdown. Do what you can. Let me know if you need any menial labor attended or if the good doctor pulls through himself.”

“Sir.” Breakdown replied properly, standing at attention until the mech was gone. As soon as he was gone a shudder seized Breakdown’s backstrut, the room going unexplainably cold by degrees. To say he was frightened of Soundwave was a bit of an understatement but at the same time...untrue. It was...well it was about respect. Just like Megatron the mech was nothing short of a legend, a terror of the Pits, an unbeatable soldier...and yet looking at him now, even previously awake and well, well...he was only half the mech he once was...as they all were...and yet he’d had no problem cracking into old Strscream’s chassis when he needed to.

His servo stalled as he pulled a fresh syringe from the tray, he had to think hard not to crunch the small tube of glass between his digits. Aiming any sort of weapon at the mech, even something as thin and useless as a needle felt like mutiny. It just wasn’t done, it never had needed to be done at least by him. Breakdown remembered a time when Soundwave trusted Knock Out, when they’d worked together as spy and master. Between him and Shockwave...they wouldn’t be in the position they were without them. Both good and bad. Unfortunately he’d ruined whatever good faith he had left with the mech by siding with Starscream leaving them both in a turbulent storm of slag that they should have seen coming.

Breakdown found an easy line under the aerial’s shoulder The mech’s energon came out green. Didn’t take a trained surgeon to know that that wasn’t right. As he held the full syringe up precipitate flowed to the bottom. “Well that’s not good.” Overprocessed. Energon didn’t show up like this in a mechs system unless it came from...dubious sources or bad processing, While certainly some mechs might consider a random mine on an organic planet a dubious source he and Knock Out did massive fuel checks from each batch they processed and the Vehicons had never had a single issue from the fuel alone. The issue could have only stemmed from Soundwave taking in the wrong fuel which was almost impossible considering they only produced three grades and even a new mold could tell them apart. Knock Out put coloring in them for that purpose alone. Even Megatron didn’t suffer from the issue and he needed the highest grade fuel.  
The only mechs that usually suffered from the limited processing was the two medics themselves. Being forign models nothing fit right; always in a state of under-fueled yet over-energized. Leaving the crew to wonder why they two could never just do their jobs.

The only reasoning Breakdown could think of would have been Soundwave recirculating his fuel on purpose. An unnecessary practice when fuel was so abundant. That didn’t discount any moment of paranoia that could have cropped up however rare it was. Soundwave was just a mech. Living on the Nemesis was a nightmare that no mech got out of unharmed. Even the strongest of them.

“At least it’s an easy fix.” Breakdown mumbled to himself as he made the short journey to the fuel cache. Fog billowed up as he opened the heavy lid, inside the precious cubes of medgrade were all kept behind a heavy secondary cage lid. They’d had to put it in after the first week being on the ship. The poor vechs that had gotten treatment becoming addicted to it bad enough to steal it. Thankfully once actual medics took over synthesising the fuel that stopped being a problem. To that day just knowing Starscream was bottling high-grade at the workers cost grinded his gears.

He set up a drip and made a few marks with a grease pencil for spots of bodywork. Soundwave kept himself in shape to a point but Breakdown found he always reeked of rust and old oil. Which was a shame considering he’d once been a handsome mech in his own right. One could say he still was...but Breakdown found his demeanor and lack of empathy hard to find appealing. He’d fallen hard at the death of his minicons. Only Laserbeak left now to remind him of the powerhouse they’d been.

Brittle metal broke off in his servos as he hosed down the Commander with a warm disinfectant. It swirled in the drain beneath the med pallet clogging the holes. Something with as little pressure as the sprayer shouldn’t have taken off any metal, dead or otherwise. Freeing a larger chunk from the drain Breakdown pressed it between his digits and felt it crumble to dust. “Well that can’t be good.” He changed the head of the sprayer to something with a stronger spray and went over Soundwave’s frame again.

Metal showered free, bouncing off the wet floor in a tinny cacophony. Breakdown clutched the power sprayer tight, stunned and disgusted. “Well that can’t be good.” Perhaps Megatron had been on to something. He drew closer to inspect the damage and found Soundwave’s frame pockmarked with holes. On certain planets this wouldn’t have been a major surprise. Most atmospheres with a sizable population with advanced technology had an issue with acid rain. Earth’s however was negligible, nothing a good weather coating couldn’t protect against. Even the Vehicons got those so Soundwave would certainly have gotten one much more efficient. Breakdown tried to think back on any fights Sounwave engaged in where he could have garnered this bad of damage. The list came up empty, the mech rarely left the Nemesis to start with and whatever Autobot’s he’d engaged with had run long before any real blows could be dealt. Even if something had happened Soundwave wasn’t exactly wary of the medbay. He came in for all sorts of minor gashes and dents without warning. This...this was puzzling.

Carefully Breakdown laid a servo on the jet’s chestplate. He could feel the hum of the mechs spark through the metal. So intense it made his digits itchy with static. One last time he looked to his partner still motionless on the gurney, frame so dull without his glittering biolights. “Guess I really am on my own with this one.” Breakdown sighed and turned his focus back to the mech on his table. Testing Soundwave’s joints he forced his chest plate open and focused the overhead light.

Everything looked fine. Lines clear with bright blue as the transfusion worked its way through. Core metal still a shiny silver, well taken care of and well nourished.The insides belied the mech’s kibble that was disintegrating slowly. Breakdown shifted his attention up and down every line and major cable looking for anything that could cause the problem but this wasn’t an issue with an arm or a wing it was the mechs whole frame. It just didn’t make any sense.

Thick blunt digits rested on the tinted glass of Soundwave’s spark chamber. It thrummed so loudly now, almost as if it was screaming, calling out all on it’s own. Breakdown fondled one of the locks. Not something natural to keep the fine machinery protected but...something installed to keep something held inside. Breakdown recognized the pattern, Shockwave’s work. He’d once gotten the same treatment, anything to keep prying unwanted optics away. He was sure Knock Out had a set of keys stashed away for Shockwave’s special projects.

Digging through Knock Out’s workbench he was startled by the sound of transformation. “Y-you up Commander?” Breakdown had expected Soundwave sitting up, fixing his plates but Laserbeak greeted him, the minicon pecking at his digits as he picked her up. Breakdown vented a nervous laugh. “Just you huh? Must get pretty boring just stuck with him all cycle.” The bird continued to peck. “Thirsty little guy? Let me get you a cube.” Laserbeak struggled in his grip until the mention of fuel, her little frame going warm with excitement.

Breakdown watched the minicon enjoy her fuel for a moment. He never thought about the mech much, or any of Soundwave’s other minicons, but she must have had thoughts of her own. To think otherwise would have been to agree with the functionalists, to think her a lesser being simply because she and her kind liked the protection of larger mechs. Or because they lived simpler lives. “You’re probably the smartest out of all of us. Aren't you?” The little bird trilled an electronic tune, content as she sipped her fuel.

Not as content as he hoped however. As soon as Breakdown left her, returning to Soundwave, key in servo, the minicon squawked a blaring alarm. Flitting around Breakdown’s head clearly trying to distract him from his task. With a quick snatch he managed to pluck her from the air, heavy servo holding her under his arm as he undid the screws. “Come on, girl! I know I’m not anyone's first choice but I passed all the tests I was given! I’m certified.” Doing a spark check while being attacked by an angry minicon hadn’t been on the test but neither had half the situations Breakdown had been through. With the screws free and set aside, Laserbeak seemed to give up, her frame flattening under Breakdown’s servo in defeat. Breakdown tried to console her. “You did a great job trying to keep the Commander safe. Now it’s my turn. We’re gonna get him fixed up, okay” The bird’s thin optic line faded in and out, as she cooed sadly. Breakdown set her on an empty tray. “You can keep watch from here.”

Laserbeak stared on at her master’s frame, a thought in mind and a warning in her sharp tune as Breakdown pried the glass plate free. What he found inside only added to his confusion. Three sparks just barely separate, their swirling energies reaching out, melding and flowing side by side each other’s channels. It looked so much like the pictures of combiners sparks he’d seen. Menasor’s, Devastator’s… Breakdown could imagine Soundwave’s spark could have looked like that once...once...

LOOK AWAY

The warning smashed through Breakdown’s audials like a shockwave, the sound piercing and silent. Breakdown tore himself away from the table and fell to the floor, curling his frame as tight as he could get it. What in the Pit was that! Where had it come from? His thoughts melted to nothing but his own screams as the pitch ripped higher, the wordless scream burning through his processor.

On the table Soundwave’s visor lit to life, he lay motionless there as below Breakdown cried and groaned, scrabbling blindly in pain on the wet dirty floor. He glared at the reflection of his frame in the metal of the smoke stained ceiling having no thought other than disappointment. He moved his servo with caution, digits curling causing a crack to spider up his arm, patches flaking free leaving new holes. He shut his chestplates, showering the medpalet in a fresh layer of rusted metal. He could only sigh as he tried to clear the pain from his circuits.

FORGIVE US, BREAKDOWN

FORGIVE US PLEASE

FORGIVE SOUNDWAVE

An ice-cold plea of something inhuman, something beyond mortality spoken for deaf audials.

* * *

Knock Out coughed painfully as his frame booted up, the overpowering aroma of dust and decaying energon hitting him like a speedbump. He forced his optics open, vision swimming as he rolled off the stretcher and barely stumbled to his peds. The medbay was a mess, floor littered with turned over carts and scattered medical equipment. At the center of the room was Breakdown, prone and curled tight in a pool of energon.

His peds slipped in it, sending him prematurely to the floor, denting his knee guards. He pawed frantically at the bigger mech's frame till he found his face, clutching it tightly as he listened for any sign of life.

Breakdown’s engine purred peacefully.

Stress fled Knock Out as he collapsed with relief. Worries turning to the metal coated floor, Breakdown’s stained hammer, the leaking dents in the mech’s helm. Gently he pressed his face flush to Breakdown’s. “Rough day at the office, big guy?” Knock Out asked with a soft laugh, not expecting an answer, just holding back the sob in his intake.


End file.
